


The First One

by littlestarlight44



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Comfort fic, F/M, Hugs, Miscarriage, TW: Blood, kanera - Freeform, sad fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 09:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16447505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlestarlight44/pseuds/littlestarlight44
Summary: Hera and Kanan have been through a lot in their relationship, including the darkest day for both of them.





	The First One

**A/N: I wrote this a little while ago, but I forgot to post it on here. For a while now I've had the headcanon that Jacen Syndulla (and in old fan-canon Dawn Syndulla) would have been a Rainbow Baby (a baby that is born after the previous pregnancy was a miscarriage) and I thought I would write a quick thing about it. I may or may not continue with a second part, where Hera and Kanan go to stay with Cham for a little while. I'm still deciding, but please tell me what you think and if I should continue!**

 

* * *

 

 

Hera couldn't bare to look at the nurse's face. She didn't want to see her pity. Force, that would only make everything so much worse. Even the medical droid had to much emotion for her to bear even in it's static, permanent position.

The day started off so… normal. Everything from the day starting to the briefing and talking with pilots was normal. The day was almost parallel to the last. Hera worked with everyone so much that every pilot's emotions and personality were as regular and forseeable as they could be, as though she had always known.

"I'm sorry, General."

Hera barely heard it.

She knew things were changing, that things would change. But she could only hope that the change would slowly become part of the daily normality.

Normality could be boring, but it was safe.

A lot safer than today.

"Clone 7567 has called upon your emergency contact."

Of course he would. She was sure Rex already made the call as the nurse was shutting her hospital room.

"His name is Rex," Hera corrected the med-droid, no life found in her voice. It was as dead as…

She felt her stomach sinking again, her throat closing up.

Everything was so normal.

The briefing was the only straining thing that day, and it was nothing compared to what she had recently went through. She had gone through air and ground attacks to help small groups of the rebellion. She had been under more strain and stress.

So why then?

Why today?

Why at all?

Hera never felt so isolated and cold. She never felt so…single. Like her own body was working against her, that her skin was not actually a part of her. It was like a useless, soft shell or an old and baggy coat that was too big. It wasn't her. Nothing was her. She never felt like she wasn't a part of herself like this before. Not being connected to the world, as though static and hallucinations created the vision around her, but not to feel connected with her own body, that she was just…something small in hallow bones and skin that she didn't even feel like were hers anymore, was jarring.

She couldn't feel the tubes in her arms, she could barely hear the monitors.

She couldn't feel anything except for the rapidly dropped feeling in her chest, the workings of her own heart slowly turning to stone. Everything was numb.

The image of that was almost more comforting than the truth. She would rather her heart dying slowly than today.

She never felt so dead.

"You should stop bleeding soo–,"

"Please stop talking."

The blood…karabast all of the blood.

The memory came back in bits and pieces.

The soft cramping as she spoke in the meeting. Mon Motham's face looked no different. Then coming out of the briefing and hearing Rex call after her. His image came without words. She could barely hear anything. Something about missiles, or bombs or pilots…it all seemed mundane. She remembered feeling the slight prick of pain as she walked and cringed.

She didn't want to hear any more about blood.

Laying in the medical bed, Hera suddenly wished she was a Jedi so that she could sense how close he was. Despite how seeing Kanan made the pit in her stomach fall faster, she also knew that she needed him. No matter what went wrong, she could go to Kanan. Kanan always made things better.

He couldn't fix this, but…

She knew he would be hear soon and that both made her feel better and terrified her. At this news, Kanan would not take long.

"Do you want any water?"

"No."

Not that she'd feel it enter her body anyway.

The bright lights over her were unneeded and unnecessarily sharp.

Why at all? she demanded of herself.

Hera couldn't feel herself breathing and for a moment wished that she wasn't and wouldn't for just a little while.

When she heard the door open, the ever falling drop in her stomach finally hit the bottom of the pit before she even had the chance to shift her eyes so that she was looking up.

Looking into his fearful face forced the wedge out of the damn of the river.

Her body was already buckling in grief, the feeling of every breath she took only made her stomach drop into her ribs more and more. Her body bucked a couple of times as the grief suddenly entered her within seconds before it stopped to shake. She gasped once to try and get a breath, but it only opened her up to more inner despair.

Kanan was immediately holding her, wrapping his arms around her as Hera unconsciously latched on to him. Kanan was standing at the edge of the stretcher, holding Hera close to his chest as she shook. Hera couldn't feel her own tears until she felt Kanan's clothing become wet and move against her face. The hid her face in his chest, not wanting to see anyone but him. Not wanting to feel anything but him.

"The…the…I…," Hera tried.

"I know," Kanan whispered to her and she felt his hand move across the back of her head and between her lekku. The Force, she realized. Of course.

That almost hurt more.

Did Kanan suddenly feel the exact moment as she had?

Hera hiccuped once before she was whimpering, feeling Kanan start to gently sway her to try and comfort her as he held her.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I'm sorry."

She felt Kanan's lips against the top of her head.

"It's not your fault," Kanan told her gently, tightening his hold on her. "It's not your fault, Hera."

"I'm sorry," Hera whispered over the talking of the nurse.

"There is no one to blame for this, General."

She recalled the image of Rex's worried face and the soft voice in her memory of asking him what was wrong. She recalled the sudden jolt, the knife to her stomach as the cramping completely took over, making her double over.

She recalled holding the wall and taking to the floor as she tried to breathe through the pain.

She recalled leaning against the wall as Rex kneeled in front of her, his voice asking what was wrong. She recalled him screaming along the hallway for help. He had tried to move her but she pushed him away, needing space and drying to breathe.

"I'm sorry," Hera whimpered to him. It wasn't fair to Kanan. Kanan didn't deserve this.

She recalled feeling gross and icky. Not like she was sick or from the cramps but from something uncanny. She recalled looking at her sock after the small thought that she felt that it was wet.

She recalled the red spots on her socks and at the edge of the pants on her pilots uniform.

"Hera, it's not your fault," Kanan told her.

The blood soaking through the one spot so much it started to drip on the floor.

How she felt her heart sink.

"This is common in mixed species babies," the nurse spoke gently.

She knew that. Truly she did.

But the blood proved to her that her hope for something better than the average was wrong.

Hera didn't see the rest of her crew near the door, watching on as they saw her breakdown and Kanan try to console her with his own face of sorrow. They hadn't even told the others yet.

Hera didn't have it in her to hold back her own tears.


End file.
